


Memory Banks

by offwiththeirheads



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 03:30:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10913421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/offwiththeirheads/pseuds/offwiththeirheads
Summary: “I was so jealous when I found out you had Woody.” Louis leans back in Harry’s hold and quietly chokes at how Harry’s voice softens as he brings up their memories.Or Fizzy's bridal shower is in full force and it’s a day of emotion and reminiscing in more ways than one when Louis finds an old friend he had left behind.





	Memory Banks

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written as part of an ongoing challenge. We each select random numbers and are given a specific emotion from the book 1000 Feelings For Which There Are No Names. To read the other fics written in this challenge, [click here](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/ShortFic_Challenge_For_Which_There_Is_No_Name/works), or you can find the masterpost on tumblr [here](http://lululawrence.tumblr.com/post/159679804243/1000-feelings-for-which-there-are-no-names-prompt).
> 
> My prompt this week was #31: The pity for a broken toy.
> 
> Massive thanks to [Lucy](https://buildalegofort.tumblr.com/) for being an amazing beta and britpicker and proofreading my work so fast. She honestly deserves so much gratitude for being my second pair of eyes. Also thanks to [Tabby](http://suddenclarityharry.tumblr.com/) for constantly being lovely and helping me out with the ideas. 
> 
> Writing this was both emotional and cathartic for me. I hope you enjoy reading this.

Louis wakes up to a flurry of activity in the Tomlinson mansion. Crockery banging, television running loudly, footsteps thudding on the landing, and running down the stairs, ten or fifteen voices that never learned to whisper.

“It’s only ten, for fucks sake.” Louis turns over with a grumble.

Harry stares back at him, head propped up by his hand. A fond smile carves itself onto his thick, rosy lips that look kissable this early in the morning. At least for _Louis_ , it’s pretty early. “Morning, grumpy.”

Louis pretends to frown at Harry but it barely even lasts a second before Louis’ reaching up to press their lips together. “Missed you.”

“You were asleep.” Harry pokes his nose and chuckles.

The sound of his laugh makes Louis’ stomach flutter. It’s one of his favourite sounds in the world. He tells Harry that. “Means you’re happy.”

“It’s too early for you to be sappy, Tomlinson.”

Louis grins, feeling that familiar warmth encase his body. He shifts under the sheets to press close to Harry’s naked body to tangle their legs together and as he does so his hard cock grazes Harry’s thigh for just a moment. Harry lets his head fall back onto the pillow and continues to watch Louis. “Why aren’t you up already?” Louis asks. “You’ve usually already had a run and breakfast in your belly by this time.”

“Maybe I wanted to spend the day in bed with you.” Louis wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at Harry. He slaps Louis’ arm, cheeks reddening, then holds Louis by the waist. “Not like that.”

Louis laughs. It’s so easy to get Harry flustered. He peels the sheet back to tuck it just above their chests and reaches out to caress the milky white skin across Harry’s shoulders. His fingers move down to trace the ship on Harry’s arm, gliding lower to run over the anatomically correct heart below it and the nude mermaid. Louis snorts without realising and Harry pouts at him without even having to coerce the reason out of him. Louis has laughed so many times about some of Harry’s tattoos that they’re used to it and it’s all in good fun. His own compass complements Harry’s ship.

Louis’ eyes find Harry’s, his gaze cutting across sharply at the edges. He watches Harry with the wonder of a child, still running his fingers in patterns over Harry’s skin. Harry’s fingers twitch on Louis’ waist. “Your eyes are so blue with the barest hint of green this morning.” Louis whispers.

Harry rolls his eyes. “Your lips are rose petals and kissable.”

“That’s what I thought when I woke up.” Louis says a little too excitedly.

Harry’s chest shakes when he laughs. “We’re so in sync.”

“Wanker.” Louis sticks his tongue out at him.

They startle, breaking out of their peaceful moment at the loud bang that resounds on the bedroom door, followed by a robust shout of “Get up you lazy lovers!” Which follows another pounding on the door. “Get your butts down here.”

Louis sighs and stares at the ceiling till Charlotte leaves with another bellow and her feet padding down the stairs. He slowly sits up in resignation, letting the sheets pool around his waist. “Never a peaceful day at this place.”

Harry laughs, rubs Louis’ back in calming strokes. He eventually follows Louis to the bathroom minutes later, picking up the fluffy towels from the chair on the way. “It’s a special day after all, they get to be as joyous as they want.”

“Yeah. Fizzy’s bridal shower is definitely a special day.” Louis honestly has no idea how those things work because he and Harry never had a bachelor party. The Tomlinsons have one thing in common. Go big or go home. Thankfully it was too late for his mum to convince his stepfather to throw one for them.

Louis heads downstairs while Harry dresses and tidies up the room. He can’t stand to see anything messy and Louis has gotten used to it after all these years. It’s even influenced him to pick up after himself sometimes.

The living room is decorated with pastel coloured, purple and pink balloons and a banner that says _Congratulations!_ The curtains have been changed into soft, purple ones that are drawn to the sides. Nothing’s changed too much. Louis finds his sisters hurrying about with gifts and plates of food in hand. For a moment, he stands in the living room, watching them.

On the way to the kitchen he comes across the youngest members of his family, playing beside the chest of toys near the ceiling windows; Ernest and Doris, his baby twin siblings. They aren’t dressed in their finest clothing yet. Knowing them, they’re bound to spill something and ruin their clothing before the rest of the guests even arrive.

Louis crouches to pick up Doris and she squeals in delight as he swings her in the air. “Morning Dotty.” He nuzzles his face into her neck and pretends to make chomping noises. Doris laughs loudly, kicking her legs and tugging at Louis’ hair. He winces and lets her down. She hurries over to Ernest and plops right on the floor.

“Achoo.” She clenches her hand at him, beckoning Louis over. He carefully sits on the rug beside them, folding his legs underneath himself.

“What are you two up to?” Ernest doesn’t even glance Louis’ way, his concentration set on fixing a broken part of his truck. He looks adorable, his features set in a frown, pacifier hanging loosely in his mouth and his blonde hair framing his face like a curtain.

“Is that Woody?” Louis asks when Doris holds the toy out to him. He grins at the sight of the toy he hadn’t seen in years. He had given it to the twins when they first started playing with bigger toys. It holds so many memories of his childhood. Louis carefully takes it out of Doris’ grip and she watches him in confusion for a few seconds before her attention is drawn to the rest of her toys.

Louis tugs at Woody’s hat, turning him around to find the string to pull so it’ll make him speak. It doesn’t seem to work however, which is disappointing. Not that he’s surprised. It’s been broken for years.

“Babe?” Louis looks up, startled out of his thoughts. Harry passes by with soft smile, making a hand motion for Louis to join him. Louis drops everything to hop up to Harry’s side. He lifts onto his toes to press his nose to Harry’s neck and breathes in. Harry laughs, batting at Louis when his breath tickles his neck.

“Hmm. You smell fresh.”

“Course I do. I just had a shower.”

Louis sports a wicked grin and pulls Harry by the hand towards the kitchen. The moment he steps in, Louis knows he shouldn’t have. The kitchen looks like a disaster zone.

Marble countertops are filled with platters of food still in the making, flour dusts the large round table and there are dish rags flung all over the chair tops and counters. There’s a small puddle of water by the oven and something that looks like sticky porridge is covering a cabinet door. Louis’ mother is the most organized person he knows, apart from Harry, so it’s surprising to see everything so disorganised.

Worst of all is how crowded the kitchen is and that’s saying something because the kitchen is huge enough to fit in a dining table for a family of ten. There are way too many people in the kitchen, from Louis’ sisters to his cousins and two or three aunts.

“I just realised that there isn’t gonna be people from just my mum and dad’s sides of the family.” Louis turns to face Harry and winces. “There’ll be people be from Fizzy’s fiancé’s side too and who knows how many relatives he has.” He groans and lets his forehead knock against Harry’s chest. Harry’s pecs are firm from all those workouts. Louis immediately blocks out the sudden sexual thoughts that invade his mind. This is not the time for that.

Harry pats his back reassuringly. “It’s not going to be that bad.”

“Oh you don’t know.” Louis raises his head for a brief moment to give Harry an eye roll and drops it back. He feels Harry’s chest vibrate with his throaty chuckle.

“I do agree that it feels like an entire family tree is here.” 

Louis snorts and when he looks up, Harry’s watching him with a grin. Louis wraps his fingers around Harry’s wrist and leads him out of the kitchen. “Come on. Too much oestrogen in here.”

Harry’s snort turns into a loud laugh. Louis can’t help but beam at the sound.

When they step out of the back door, they take in the transformed back garden. White garden chairs and tables have been set out, shaded by umbrellas that can be folded up and put aside when needed. Each table is covered with soft purple and white tablecloths, and plastic vases filled with yellow blossoms that brighten the place.

It’s very evident that the garden has been newly mowed. More balloons have been tied to trees lining the garden all the way to the end where the goal net is. The net is abandoned now that Louis hasn’t been able to visit home much and have football sessions.

“It’s impressive.” Harry marvels. He squeezes Louis’ hand, his gaze never constant as he admires every bit of Louis’ mother’s handiwork.

“You know my mum.” Louis shrugs.

Harry nods. “She’s a wonderful lady who puts all her effort into everything.”

“Like me.” Louis agrees very seriously.

“Hah.” Harry laughs, letting go of Louis to retreat back inside. He watches Harry in confusion. “You can’t even pick your socks off the floor.”

“Hey now.” Louis places his hands on his hips and pretends to be stern. “ _You_ don’t know when to relax.”

“Fair argument.” Harry rolls his eyes. “I’m gonna get us something to drink.”

“Okay. And I’ll snatch the best seats.” Louis grins. Harry shakes his head in amusement just as the door closes behind him.

He returns with two cold beers and his iPod. Harry sets it up on the table and they settle on their chairs pulled close together as the opening strings of _Castle On The Hill_ plays. 

Halfway through their comfortable silence and Ed Sheeran crooning in the background, Louis abandons the beer to sit on Harry’s lap. He leans against Harry, letting his legs dangle over Harry’s. Harry moves his arms to wrap them around Louis’ waist, one slipping underneath his shirt to rub at his side. “What is it?” Harry asks in a soft voice.

Louis shakes his head. Harry’s eyes look the brightest green in the sunlight; it’s like moss or dazzling, transparent green wings. “Nothing.” He tips Harry’s chin upwards with a finger to press a kiss on his nose. “I just love you.”

“I love you too.” Harry’s smile paints his face into one of utter magnificence that it automatically makes Louis smile. He can’t stop staring at Harry, drinking in the way the tip of his nose stands out, and the crinkled skin by his eyes that makes it seem like he’s squinting, and the three freckles that sit so neatly on his cheek. Louis traces his fingers over the shape, letting his thumb rub over Harry’s mole right below his left cheek. “This is nice.”

“What is? Me touching you all over?” Louis teases.

Harry digs his fingers into Louis’ waist and he squirms within Harry’s hold, unable to stop the giggles that escape his lips. “ _That_ but mostly the whole party.”

“Not a party, Styles.”

Harry shrugs. “I know. But it’s really nice.” 

Louis pauses his response to search Harry’s face for any indicator of what hidden meaning he’s trying to get across. Harry hasn’t stopped glancing around at the alluring decorations and furniture. It’s a beautiful and aesthetically pleasing sight. 

Louis slowly leans forward to touch their foreheads together. Harry’s breath ghosts his face, laced with the faint whiff of beer and mint. Harry loves chewing gum; it makes him less likely to fidget apparently. “Do you want something like this? A bachelor party?”

Harry opens his mouth to speak then snaps it shut immediately after, leaving a brief moment of silence where neither of them says anything at all except for how intensely they’re looking into each other’s eyes. Louis takes a sip of his beer and turns back to Harry with a quirked brow. 

“I think it’s too late for that.” Harry says finally. “Just a party for us. We never had one.”

“Let’s have one for our anniversary then.” Louis suggests. “Your party hosting skills will finally be put into good use.”

“That would be nice, actually.”

“Yeah?”

Harry nods with a hum. He brushes his nose against Louis’ from side to side. Louis wrinkles his nose when it begins to tickle. “Invite some of our friends and colleagues, families, make a right celebration of it.”

“Tons of food, entertainment.” Louis lists, pointedly ticking them off his fingers. “Decorations, gifts, invitations…” Harry surges forward to kiss him, effectively shutting him up. Louis grins into the kiss, slipping his arms around Harry’s neck. He rubs Harry’s back in slow strokes as their tongues meet.

Their breath grows ragged in a span of few seconds, desperately clutching at each other. Louis drinks him in, every movement of Harry’s lips, every trace of his fingers on Louis’ skin.

He briefly pulls away to properly straddle Harry. It’s the most uncomfortable position Louis has ever been in, outdoors. Legs folded at the knees and feet planted on the low armrests of the chair while Harry keeps a strong hold of him. Harry chases his lips and Louis leans back grinning devilishly. Harry pouts and flutters his eyelashes.

“Nerd.” Louis whispers as he kisses Harry again. If someone were to see them, they’d think the two of them were getting it on. The thought makes Louis snort.

He winces when the condensation of the beer bottle Harry’s holding seeps through his t-shirt. Louis shifts uncomfortably and presses chaste kisses across Harry’s jaw and his cheeks, lingering on the three freckles that sit on the left side of his cheek.

Panting and trying to regain his breathing, Harry disrupts their moment when he moves to place the beer on the table. Louis takes the chance to change his sitting position and curls up as much as possible into Harry, ear pressed to his chest.

“You’d do it for me though, right?”

“Do what?” Harry’s heartbeat begins to slow from the rapid pace it had been beating at earlier.

“The anniversary party.”

Louis hums, tilting his head to look at Harry. “If you’re asking me if I’m on board with it, I definitely am. Damn the expense. I’d do anything to make you happy and I’ll definitely enjoy the food and booze.”

“And the company of other people.” Harry bops Louis’ nose with his pointer finger. Louis’ gaze catches on the heavy rings that weigh down Harry’s fingers, particularly eyes the silver ring on Harry’s pointer finger. A ruby is perfectly set into it, it’s surface barely scratched up. He had given it to Harry on their fourth anniversary together.

Louis makes a face. “Why would I need to bother myself with boring people when I have you?”

Harry laughs and Louis’ head moves gently with the way Harry’s chest does. “You just don’t like _my_ kind of friends.”

“Not that I _don’t_ like them.” Louis says. “They’re pretentious.”

“Arse.” Louis pauses laughing mid way through when he spots Fizzy stepping out into the back garden, a plate of food in her hand. She looks happy, incredibly jubilant. Louis can see how she glows as if everything is right in the world. And she’s beautiful, dressed in jeans and a blue blouse with ruffled sleeves. Her hair is plaited into a French braid, make up done perfectly to compliment her outfit. A sense of pride and joy courses through Louis.

Seconds later, Fizzy’s entrance is followed by four other women, a cousin and three aunts. All holding plates of food and drinks.

“Here they come.” Louis mumbles with a groan. The faint sound of music that suddenly grows louder in the background distracts him. Louis searches the garden in surprise and spots the speakers in the very far corner of the house. He recognises it to be a lame, slow song that he’s probably heard on Harry’s playlist once. Leaning forwards, he slides Harry’s iPod from the table to shut off their own source of music.

Louis’ skin prickles with Goosebumps with each stroke of Harry’s calloused fingers, from playing guitar, over his waist. He wants to groan from how good it feels. Content and fuzzy, Louis watches Fizzy approach them, hands crossed over her chest. A smile plays across her lips.

“So what did you get me?” Louis raises a brow, ready to ask what she means and throw Harry a questioning look when Harry softly pinches his skin and a jolt of realisation runs through Louis’ head. Fizzy’s expression changes into annoyance. If it were not for the fact that she’s biting her lip to stop herself from grinning, Louis would’ve thought her to be seriously disappointed.

“No! We got you a gift.” Louis slips off Harry’s lap and tugs at the hem of his own shirt. “It’s in the bedroom. I’ll be right back.”

Louis power walks across the garden, trying to avoid the women seated at the tables and chatting amongst themselves. He knows that most of them are pissed that they were never invited to his and Harry’s engagement party. They don’t seem to realise that they never threw any in the first place and Louis doesn’t feel like explaining their reasons to a bunch of distant relatives that they rarely see.

“Where you running off to, Boo?” His mum calls out as he rushes past the kitchen. Louis catches a momentary glance of her pulling out a tray of cupcakes from the oven. Some of the women in the kitchen turn their heads towards him.

“Getting our present for Fizzy.” He calls back, slipping into their bedroom.

Louis easily finds the box wrapped in paper that has a complicated pattern of shapes; a red, sheer ribbon winding around it, sits on the top as a bow. It’s all Harry’s handiwork obviously. Attached to the ribbon is a card expressing their congratulations and well wishes to Fizzy.

Shutting the door quietly behind him, Louis walks towards the staircase. He pads down the stairs, past the bedrooms and the laundry room. But something catches his attention like a spark on dry leaves. Louis immediately halts and cocks his head to the side, listening acutely to catch the sound coming from the den. It’s so faint, he could assume it to be the telly except he knows it wasn’t on earlier and the sound is familiar.

Stepping into the den, Louis surveys his surroundings, lit brightly by the afternoon sun. It’s the neatest room in the house since the girls don’t use it much anymore, preferring to be in their own bedrooms all day. The den is only ever occupied by his stepfather or his mum on occasion, or by other older members in the family.

Soon enough, Louis finds the source of the sound. Stuck in the space between the arm chair and the bookshelf is Woody. Louis’ heart falls at the sight. One of Woody’s legs is ripped, sitting to the side. Louis abandons Fizzy’s gift on the armchair to pick up Woody and his leg.

Woody is malfunctioning, his famous line ‘reach for the sky’ playing repeatedly on a loop, randomly whirring and stuttering his words. It’s ironic because Louis used to try and make him speak for a long time and suddenly Woody is, and Louis desperately wants him to stop. when he’s broken. His stuffing is exploding from the joint where his leg used to be. Louis tries to push it back with a finger but it comes right back out.

He turns Woody over in his hands and pulls at the string to make him stop stuttering. It doesn’t work. It doesn’t annoy Louis either. In fact it brings back countless memories.

His sixth birthday is so vivid, when his grandmother had presented Woody to him after months of wanting it so badly. It meant the world to Louis. He carried Woody around everywhere he went, whether it was nursery or kindergarten or down to the shops with his mum or while accompanying her for extra shifts at the hospital.

But then his grandmother passed away the very next year and Woody held so much more meaning. In a way, he still does, he still reminds Louis of her. The shepherd’s pie she was celebrated within the family for; the times she chided his mother for always being on his case about his hyperactivity; the year she taught Louis to ride a bike and never let go till Louis was ready for her to.

Staring at his name etched into Woody’s shoe reminds Louis of his grandmother coming to his parents and teachers day meetings when his mother had been too overworked to attend. The countless times she’d comforted his mother when she got divorced and couldn’t sleep at night. Louis had waited on his mother hand and foot during that difficult time and his Nan would let him curl up on her lap when he was tired.

Louis doesn’t realise he’s crying till he feels a familiar set of arms snaking around his waist. “Hey.” He says, croakily.

“You took ages to get back.” Harry says resting his head against Louis’. “I got worried.”

Louis laughs but it comes out as half a sob. “Kind of got distracted.” He waves Woody at Harry.

“I can see. You thinking about your Nan?”

“You know me too well.”

“I was so jealous when I found out you had Woody.” Harry says. Louis leans back in Harry’s hold and quietly chokes back a sob at how Harry’s voice considerably softens as he brings up their memories.

“You were just obsessed with Toy Story.”

“So were you.”

Louis smiles. “But then you got Buzz for Christmas. The perfect duo.”

“Like us.” Harry adds. Louis runs his fingers across the seam on Woody’s side. It’s starting to split again. “I remember the day he had surgery.” Louis chuckles at the use of his words. It’s exactly what they had called it back then. “We sat so patiently by your mum’s side at the table while she stitched him up.”

“You brought Buzz along for moral support.”

Harry snorts into his neck. Though it tickles, Louis doesn’t move away. “He needed all the support he could get obviously, it was a traumatic time according to our eight year old brains.”

“I gave him to you once, when you fell ill so you’d have company when I wasn’t allowed to be around.”

Louis can tell Harry’s remembering it, reliving that memory, by his silence. “It’s the nicest thing you ever did.” Harry says after a moment.

“Like I never do nice things now.” Louis jokes.

“As a kid I meant.”

Louis sighs, turns Woody around in his hands and stares at his plastic face. Such a small object represents something of so much value and it baffles Louis for a second.

Harry turns him around so Louis’ facing him. “Are you okay?” Harry raises his hands to cup at Louis’ face and runs his thumbs over Louis’ cheeks in an attempt to wipe the almost dry tears.

Louis nods. He lowers his gaze to the toy. “Yeah. Just a bit emotional.”

“You’re okay.” Harry smiles. He squeezes Louis’ shoulders like he does whenever he reassures Louis. “Shall we head back? Fizzy’s probably getting antsy and we’ll more than likely have to eat the remnants of lunch. I don’t want to miss dessert.”

Louis feels his lips curl up at the corners. “Okay. Yeah.” He waits for Harry to whirl around and stride out of the den but Harry keeps watching him instead. “What are you doing? Let’s go then.”

Harry’s hands fall to his side. “Aren’t you gonna—“ He gestures at Woody. “Like, leave him with the rest of their toys or something?” Harry quickly bends to pick up Fizzy’s gift from the armchair.

“No.” Louis shakes his head. He’s going to tear up again at the sight of his smudged name on Woody’s heel. “I’m taking him.”

Harry observes him. And Louis can tell that he’s wondering. Harry doesn’t pose the question, however. So Louis explains as his heart clenches. “He’s the only thing left of me Nan.”

“Don’t you have photographs and stuff of her, love?”

“Yeah but this—this has so many memories.” Louis says, holding Woody up. “Of Nan, you, my childhood. Besides—“ Louis stares forlornly at Woody before locking eyes with Harry. “I don’t want to leave him broken and abandoned. I don’t want him to be left alone. The twins probably won’t mind.” He glances at the door almost expecting one of the twins to burst through in search of Woody. “If I leave him here, I’ll feel like I left my Nan in a way, you know?” Harry nods, not that he can relate but because he can understand where Louis’ going with this. “I miss her sometimes.”

“I know, love.” Harry pulls him into a hug and kisses his head. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I am.” Louis sniffs and loosens their hold to wipe at his nose.

“Okay. Well, I’ll borrow your mum’s sewing kit and stitch him up.” Harry gently pries Woody out of Louis’ hands and takes a closer look at Woody. “He’ll be good as new.”

Louis’ beam makes his own cheeks hurt but it’s worth it to watch Harry mirror it, to feel the warmth that washes Louis’ insides at his generosity. “Thanks. I love you so much, you know that?”

“Think you already made that clear.” Harry smiles and holds up his left hand to reveal the silver band that sits on his ring finger. The tiny stones sparkle when the sunlight hits it at just the right angle. Louis brings his hand to Harry’s and laces their fingers.

“You have abnormally large hands.” Louis says in response, through a teasing grin.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!
> 
> It would mean a lot if you left some kudos/a comment and please take a moment to share the [fic post](http://hazzabooween.tumblr.com/post/160732544051/memory-banks-by-offwiththeirheads-word-count-4k) :) xx


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